


Everyday is Getting Colder

by Houdini123, LittleLizardLover



Series: There is no Me Without You [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War I, Blood and Injury, Cat babies, Cryptanalysis, Fluff and Angst, Hemophilia, M/M, Out of Character, Protective Kuroo Tetsurou, kenma's hemophiliac in this one and he stresses kuroo out a lot, mentions of ............. math, not that much angst, soft, spies?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27290566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houdini123/pseuds/Houdini123, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLizardLover/pseuds/LittleLizardLover
Summary: Before all the glitz and the glam of the 1920s there was the pain and suffering of the Great War looming over the heads of the young population of America.Tetsurou and Kenma are a newly married couple who believed themselves to have had the luck not to be drafted, only to be recruited into Room 40, a secretive cryptanalysis department in London. While the future may seem scary and uncertain, they have each other and sometimes that's all that matters.Second in a series, though you don't have to read the first to understand this one. They're only related through universe and some characters.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: There is no Me Without You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956553
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Everyday is Getting Colder

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the second fic in "There is no Me Without You." This time we get a look at the lives of Kuroo and Kenma before, during and after the Great War.

Tetsurou and Koutarou were the last to leave the office again, after another long day of deals negotiation and pattern approval. Kenma would (and frankly, _should_ ) be sleeping when Tetsurou would get home. Hopefully he wouldn’t be asleep on the sofa again, it always made his back ache in the morning or worse _bruise_. Then again, he could also be asleep at his desk in their bedroom, abacus astray and graphite staining his hands and face. Sighing and scrubbing a hand down his face Tetsurou unlocked his car, waving goodbye to Koutarou one last time and set off.  
The lights were still on inside their home, even though it was way past midnight. Alarm bells went off in Tetsurou’s mind, Kenma only stayed up with a lamp usually so for there to be so many lights opened meant something was wrong. Grabbing his bag he rushed towards the house, hoping that whatever was going on didn’t involve Kenma. The door was still locked which was a good sign, and there wasn’t any sign of forced entry. He could hear voices coming from the living room so he made his way there, not bothering to remove his shoes or coat.  
Kenma… Kenma was sitting in the cushioned chair by the fireplace holding his left arm in the air and Yaku was holding his left hand. Kenma was as pale as a sheet and Yaku looked worried, which was a rarity for him. In a few strides Kuroo was kneeling before Kenma, resting a hand on his knee and bringing the other to his cheek. He nodded once to Yaku, acknowledging his presence before talking to a sleepy looking Kenma.

“Kitten, what happened?” He asked gently, knowing better than to come in guns blazing to something like this. 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. How was your day? Did you get the contract you wanted?” Kenma replied, trying to play off the fact that Yaku was holding up his bandaged but still bleeding hand.

“Hmm… that’s not really answering my question darling.” He reasoned, softly stroking his cheek. 

“You’re not answering mine either.” Kenma huffed out.

“Well how about you tell me why I come home late at night to my husband bleeding in our living room and then I’ll tell you how my day went?” Kuroo said, not leaving much room for argument. 

“That’s not fair…” Kenma whined. 

“I’m just worried, babes.” Tetsurou tried, his worry only increasing with Kenma’s lack of answers.

“I cut myself with a letter opener by accident.” He barely whispered, eyes cast off to the side.

Kissing his nose, Tetsurou tried getting more information, “Thank you for telling me. Is it still bleeding a lot?”

“Hmpf.”

Kenma seemed to be done with Tetsurou’s questions but he needed to be sure Kenma was okay, so he questioned further, “When did this happen?”

“You said you would tell me how your day went.” He grumbled.

“Yes, but I’m trying to determine if I need to call the doctor.” Tetsurou reasoned, feeling like a dirtbag for bringing up doctors, Kenma’s long lasting phobia. 

“No doctors, you promised.” Kenma said, trying to back up further into the chair. “They don’t even help.”

“I’d rather break a promise than see you bleeding out.” Tetsurou pleaded. He could see Kenma internally panicking and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d stop answering totally. 

“Please, no doctor.” Kenma said, looking stressed. Tetsurou knew no matter the answer that a doctor wouldn’t be coming to their home any time soon. With a few strokes through Kenma’s hair to calm them both down he tried again. 

“How long?”

“Three hours.” Yaku said from where he was still holding up Kenma’s arm.

“ _Yaku_.” Kenma whined while Tetsurou sent an eternally grateful look his way.

“Why didn’t you call? I would’ve come home.” Tetsurou asked.

“I didn’t want to bother you, today was really important for you and Koutarou.” Kenma countered.

“You’re my husband, it will never bother me when it concerns you.” Tetsurou said in that sickeningly sweet way of his. 

“ _Sap_.” Kenma replied, a small smile finally gracing his face, tears dried up. 

“You know it babes. Can I look at your cut while I tell you how today went?” Tetsurou said, reaching for the injured arm. 

“Please.” Kenma said, easily. 

“Yaku, can you get the first aid supplies and a glass of orange juice for Kenma?” Tetsurou asked Yaku, who was already on his way to getting what they needed. 

Tetsurou set to work carefully unwinding the bandage around Kenma’s hand and arm. Thankfully the bleeding seemed to have slowed down to a sluggish trickle which made Kuroo send thanks to every deity he knew. Hopefully with enough care he could get it to stop. Kenma was purposefully averting his eyes from the cut, for someone who was hemophilic he was especially squeamish. Tetsurou supposed he would feel the same if he were faced with his fragile mortality so often, that’s why he never minded taking care of Kenma.  
Yaku came back with their usual first aid box and a glass of fresh iced orange juice, with a dash of grenadine as he prefered. Kenma gratefully took the glass from him, sipping slowly because he knew better than to overwhelm his stomach at a time like this. Yaku quickly left without another word turning off the hall light on his way out. Tetsurou got what he needed from the box and got to work wiping down and tightly rewrapping Kenma’s hand.

“So… we got the deal.” He said conversationally, trying to distract Kenma from the bottle of Mercurochrome.

“Really? What’s the cut?” Kenma asked, eyes ablaze with the prospect of mathematics.

“He gets 15% of profits for the first five years and then 5%, the rest is split 50/50 between me and Bo.” Tetsurou answered with a smile. He dipped a cotton swab in the Mercurochrome and began to wipe around the wound, stalling as much as he could. 

Kenma was clearly caught up in the details of the deal when he spoke next, “That’s better than what we thought we would get.” Followed by an, “Ouch, _Kuro, that hurts_.” as Tetsurou got to the wound. Wincing in sympathy, Tetsurou continued his task.

“Well, that’s thanks to you kitten.” He admitted.

“Not really.” Kenma said, shaking his head.

“Oh yes it is.” Tetsurou argued back.

“All I did was talk to his daughter.” Kenma said, clearly recalling the annoying young woman.

“Yes and he spoils her more than I spoil you so there was an interesting added incentive to the business deal. You made our textiles sound like they could somehow fix her awful style.” Tetsurou added, not letting Kenma downplay his work.

“She was so bratty, kept referring to her father as _‘daddykins’_.” Kenma recalled, shuddering at the memory.

“Ah, see I wouldn’t mind you calling me daddy but that seems a step too far.” Kuroo teased.

Kenma looked absolutely horrified when he replied. “As if I would ever.”

Tetsurou ignored his look of horror as he finished up the bandaging. “The bleeding’s almost stopped, I see my magical powers are as good as ever.”

Kenma put down his empty glass, “Can we go cuddle now? I’m tired.” he asked, passing his non-injured hand through his hair. 

“Of course.” Tetsurou replied as if he could deny cuddles.

“Carry me?” Kenma pouted in that way to adorable way of his, knowing Tetsurou was much too weak to its powers. 

“Anything for you.” He replied, easily picking Kenma up making sure to be careful with his hand. Slowly he made his way up the stairs to their shared bedroom where their cat babies were waiting for them on the bed. Both cats perked up when Tetsurou set Kenma down on the bed. He went to their respective dressers to grab sleepwear for the both of them.

“Let’s get that blood off of you,” Tetsurou said, pouring water from the china jug into the basin on their vanity. “Cold water is okay?” He asked knowing Kenma wouldn’t really care, the process uncomfortable anyway. 

Petting Pommette, Kenma barely spared him a glance or a response, “Hmm.” So Tetsurou got to work, first stripping Kenma down to his underthings. He could see Kenma nodding off as he gently wiped the blood off his arms and legs, hurrying to dry his skin and dress him again before he fell to the clutches of sleep. It was pretty late, and with having lost a lot of blood, Tetsurou didn’t doubt that Kenma was absolutely exhausted.

“There we go, all done.” Tetsurou said standing from where he crouched. He threw the cloth he had been using into the bassin, leaving it for tomorrow. He ran a hair through his hair, or more like he tried to seeing as it was as messy as always. It was in that moment of brief respite that Tetsurou realized he was still fully dressed in his coat, hat, and outdoor shoes. Kenma, through a half-lidded glance, was clearly internally laughing at his appearance. 

“Hurry up and get in here, the fur babies miss their daddy.” He said, failing to hide a smile. 

“Are you sure it’s just the fur babies that miss their daddy?” Tetsurou replied, signature smirk gracing his face.

“ _Kuro..._ ” Kenma said warningly.

“One day, it’ll slip... one day.” He teased as he started removing his shoes and coat, eager to sleep. 

“And I’ll subsequently die of mortification. _Hurry up, I’m cold._.” Kenma whined in the way that always assured that Kuroo would do whatever he wanted. With a laugh he finished stripping down to his boxers and slipped into a pair of nice silk pyjama bottoms, matching Kenma’s of course (Kenma thought it was pretentious but wore them anyway).  
Sighing, he walked over to his side of the bed, pulled the heavy covers down, turned the lights off and cuddled Kenma’s back. Pressing a kiss to his nape he whispered his last words for the night.

“Don’t worry, Daddy’s here to stay.” He huffed. 

“Kuro, I swear to God I _will_ murder you.” Kenma promised, sleep heavy on his mind. 

\--

Lately, it seemed that the radio was only ever talking about the war. It had been the topic often enough _before_ the U.S. had decided to join the fray, but now it was impossible to spend a day without hearing about it, especially with how Kenma kept the radio on practically 24/7. It didn’t help that the menace that was the draft hung over Tetsurou’s head like an inescapable shadow.

He didn’t get drafted though. Tetsurou knew very well that he could get drafted later, that he wasn’t _really_ safe, but he still felt like popping open a champagne bottle and having a little celebration when he got the letter saying he wasn’t about to be sent to the slaughter. The relatively positive mood had stuck around all day until the phone rang. Kenma picked it up, holding it to his ear for a minute before holding it out to Tetsurou.

“It’s Koutarou,” Kenma said, already turning back to whatever book he’d been most invested in lately.

Tetsurou took the phone quickly, hands a bit shaky since he knew that Koutarou and Keiji had been waiting for news on the draft as well. He thought that since he and Kenma had had good luck, maybe their friends did as well. “Hey, Koutarou, how’s it going?” He asked, trying to sound casual and positive.

There was silence on the other end for a moment before his friend spoke, uncharacteristically serious, “I got drafted.”

_Fuck_

“Keiji didn’t though,” Koutarou continued, “Turns out he’s ineligible, ‘cause of his eyes.”

“So it turns out being blind does have an advantage,” Tetsurou joked, though it fell pretty flat. Kenma looked up at him, seeming a bit confused. “I didn’t get drafted.”

Kenma had sat up properly now, his book now forgotten, having clued in to what Koutarou was calling about.

“That’s great,” Koutarou said, though he didn’t sound as excited as his words suggested, “I’ll be leaving next week. Can you take care of Keiji for me?”

“Of course, but I’m pretty sure he can take better care of himself than you. And anyways, you’ll be home before you know it, bro. The Germans don’t stand a chance with you on the front lines. They’ll erect a ton of statues in your honour and I won’t be able to go anywhere without seeing your stupid face.” Tetsurou knew he was rambling and saying some stupid shit, but Koutarou chuckled on the other end which he took as a good thing. “Hey, what do you say to meeting up for a nice dinner tomorrow? I’ll even force Kenma to come along, and we can all get stupid drunk on expensive wine.”

“Only if you’re the one paying,” Koutarou said, sounding the slightest bit cheered up.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tetsurou said, “I’ll even make the reservations and shit for all of us. You go spend the rest of today with Keiji while I figure it all out.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow night, bro.” Koutarou said.

“See you then.” Tetsurou replied, before hanging up the phone.

“Koutarou got drafted, then?” Kenma asked, voice soft as Tetsurou collapsed on the nearest chair. The younger man came closer and hugged him, which was a bit startling as he was rarely the one to actually initiate physical contact. “He’ll be fine,” Kenma continued, “He’s too stubborn to die.”

“I hope you’re right, kitten.”

\--

They had been fresh out of Cornell with their respective degrees in applied calculus and logic for Kenma and organic chemistry and philosophy for Tetsurou so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when army officials came to recruit them personally into the intelligence and cryptanalysis branch. _Well_ , recruit is the nice way to say it, they had not subtlety hinted that should they refuse there would be consequences along the lines of treason and prison time. It had been a hard pill to swallow after they had ‘celebrated’ not being drafted, especially for Kenma who had been the most targeted by the agents out of the two. A lingering guilt had had him anxious and bedridden for days. No matter how many times Tetsurou reassured him that he too would have joined, not out of an obligation to Kenma, but out of a certain sense of duty, it did nothing to quell Kenma’s anxiety.

They had been given a month to settle their business, much of which was being handled by Yaku and Yamamoto in their absence, before being shipped off to England as representatives of the US army to work on the cryptanalysis at Room 40. With everything settled and a very very tearful goodbye to their cat babies (they had brought photos of Pomette and Croustade in their luggage) they set off in uniform aboard the USS Minnesota. Thankfully, because of their rank and marital status they had been given a room to share by themselves which was a small comfort considering everything else.

“Kuro…” Kenma mumbled from where his face was squished into a pillow.

“Yes kitten?” Tetsurou replied, looking up from the reports he had been reading. 

“I hate boats.”

“Mmm, are you feeling sick again?”

“I’m dying.”

“I sure hope not, I’m much too young to be a widower. Think of the children” Tetsurou replied, brushing a hand through Kenma’s hair. He was thankful that they both had been allowed to keep their locks due to their roles. A nearly bald Tetsurou would have been too much to handle for the both of them. 

“It _hurts_ ” Kenma moaned.

“I know, kitty cats like you weren’t meant to go seafaring.”

“ _Kuro…_ ” Kenma warned.

“Sorry, sorry. Do you want some water?” Tetsurou asked, only getting a grunt of pain in reply. He stood, grabbing one of their water bottles and handing it to a palid Kenma. Seeing his gaunt face he turned around and grabbed some saltines.

“Crackers?” He offered.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it down.” Kenma replied, swaying.

“Try just one, for me?” 

“I don’t wanna get sick again.” Kenma mumbled, going to lay back down. “It could cause another bleed.”

“I know baby, but if you don’t eat you’ll get more sick.” Tetsurou tried to reason. “I promise you’ll feel better after. We can deal with a bleed.” He said, rubbing a soothing hand down Kenma’s back. 

“Just one?”

“Just one.” Tetsurou said as he was placing a single saltine in a glaring Kenma’s outstretched hand. “Poor you, with a cruel husband who’s only wish is to see you healthy.” 

“Jerk.” Kenma grumbled as he nibbled on the saltine, much to Kuroo’s relief. He wasn’t feeling too good either but he had mercifully been spared from seasickness. Tetsurou tried to lighten the mood, seeing as they were roughly two days away from the London Docks.

“I wonder how London will be this time of year?” He asked, a Cheshire grin on his face.

“Wet and miserable, same as all the other times we’ve visited.” Kenma deadpanned back, reaching for another saltine. “Except it’ll actually be worse because there’s a war now.”

“No need to be a sourpuss, we’ll go to that bookshop you adore.”

“Really?” Kenma asked, eyes sparkling with apprehensive joy.

“Have I ever lied about spoiling you?”

“Nope.”

“That’s settled then, I believe our first day off is three weeks from now, so we’ll go then and pick up some of those lavender soaps you favour too.” Tetsurou offered.

“Sounds like a plan, then.” Kenma replied before taking out his abacus to calculate the last of the numbers in his pile of reports, with a little more colour in his cheeks. 

\--

The apartment they were given in London was nice enough. Far from the grandeur of their own home estate, but still nicer than most. It came furnished with everything they needed and a distinct lack of nosey neighbours. The British government had had someone trustworthy drive them to the apartment and give them a small folder with the details of the identities they would be assuming while working for Room 40. For all intents and purposes, they were still just Kuroo Tetsurou and Kuroo Kenma, Americans, but instead of cryptanalysts they’re listed as a diplomat and a researcher.

“Being a diplomat is nice,” Tetsurou joked as he read the little blurb of writing explaining what he could and couldn’t say and do, “It really gives you an air of sophistication.”

“You’re not an _actual_ diplomat,” Kenma said, clearly still moody from the boat ride, “Don’t go letting your ego get even more inflated because of this.”

“I would never.” Tetsurou replied, “And don’t act like you're not the slightest bit pleased about being a ‘researcher.’”

“It’s all a cover,” Kenma deflected, “I’m not going to be proud about a _lie_.” He huffs then, “I’m going to go sleep. You should too.”

The next morning, a car came to pick them up and bring them to Room 40. The driver did not seem to enjoy Tetsurou’s attempts at friendly conversation, so the whole ride was spent in silence as Kenma was still half asleep.

Room 40 is a small room, tucked away from prying eyes but not so much as to be suspicious. There were very few people working there, sitting at tables overflowing with papers, listening intensely to radios and taking notes.

Most of them didn’t even look up from their work when Kuroo and Kenma entered. The officer who had come to gather them at the entrance and led them to the room directed them to an unoccupied desk and radio, before bidding them a good day and leaving.

Kenma slid into the seat before the radio and put on the headset with ease and an air of casualty, as though he’d done that a million times before. Tetsurou watched for a good moment, a bit enraptured as his husband messed with the radio’s knobs and switches before beginning to write down whatever he was hearing. Tetsurou always found it adorable when Kenma got so focused on something, if not a bit annoying. He slid into the seat next to his and began looking through some of the cipher sheets. 

He’d already memorized all of the known ciphers, and he recognized some of them on the sheets but a lot of them are clearly new or homemade. He spent the next few minutes looking over them and building his understanding until Kenma silently slid a sheet of paper over to him.

It looked like absolute gibberish. Tetsurou had studied up on his german as soon as he’d been recruited, so he knew it wasn’t because of a language barrier. Picking up a pencil and a blank sheet of paper, Tetsurou began trying to make sense of the words in front of him.

It was going to be a tough job for sure.  
\--

The news came in the form of the emergency telephone ringing with a call from the head office officially declaring the war over and an armistice being signed. At first, it was as if every single person working at Room 40 was suspended in disbelief, even if they were the ones who were largely responsible for the news. Then it was like a tidal wave of relief and joy and pure unadulterated mirth washed through the office. Tetsurou stood from his desk, not caring that he knocked his chair over, and grabbed Kenma from his and spun him around, careful not to be too rough so as to not cause any bruising.

“We did it! It’s over!” He exclaimed.

“It’s over!” Kenma replied just as enthusiastically, tucking his face into Tetsurou’s shoulder. “Kuro… we can go home again.” He whispered in his ear.

“That’s right kitten, we’re going home.” Kuroo said, leaning in for a victory kiss. As they were lost to the world in each other's eyes with goofy grins, Kenma’s eyes suddenly widened.

“Our babies!” Kenma whisper-shouted in glee. 

“I can’t wait.” Tetsurou replied just as someone popped a bottle of champagne. 

\--

Going home wasn’t as simple as they thought it was going to be, seeing as they were intelligence and not active duty they were last priority for transport. That and there was a lot of paperwork and intel to still work through in the aftermath of the armistice and subsequent drafting of the treaty of Versailles. Thankfully July of 1919 saw them stepping off a passenger boat onto the lovely docks of New York City where their friends and servants were waiting for them . . . along with two children?  
They barely had time to set their luggage down to greet Bokuto and Keiji when a lanky child with pale grey hair jumped to hug Kenma. Before he could lay a finger on the spooked Kenma, Tetsurou grabbed the child by his shirt collar and pulled him away. Even if the kid didn’t seem to have bad intentions, jumping Kenma like that would be a one-way trip to the hospital, most likely.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He asked the kid who looked at him with the goofiest expression.

“Uncle Tetsurou! I miss you so much, you have a nice house. I am Lev!” Lev? rushed out in a thick slavic accent, wriggling around in Tetsurou’s grasp.

“Uncle?” Tetsurou asked, turning to face a sheepish looking Yaku while still holding Lev away from himself and Kenma. 

“Apparently, he and his sister are your second cousins from Russia. They had to flee due to the Bolshevik revolution and now you’re the only family they have left, as far as they know.” Yaku tried to explain.

“What the fuck!?” Kuroo exclaimed. He didn’t remember having any second cousins from Russia. 

“They’ve been living at the house since about three months after you left.” Yaku said with a small scowl, “Their story checks out, unfortunately.”

“And you forgot to tell us by letter, why?” Kenma asked from his hiding behind Tetsurou’s back.

“He didn’t forget! We wanted to surprise you!” Lev said loudly before being lightly wacked on the back of the head by Yaku.

“Calm down, little brat!” Yaku reprimanded.

“Вл! почему ты ударил меня?! That is not nice!**” Lev replied back, rubbing the back of his head.

“I am sorry, we did not want to trouble you while you were away.” The girl said, her English slightly better than her brother, “I am Alisa and this is Lev. We came to America with our babushka after fleeing revolution. She died while on the boat ride here but left us with a picture of you together and a phone number.” 

“That means you’re Auntie Pasha’s grandchildren.” Tetsurou said, recalling the ancient old woman he’d met a few times earlier in life. He’d lost touch with her since his own parents had passed. He felt a small twinge of sadness at learning of her passing but moved past it to focus on the problem at hand. “I had no idea you guys even existed. Are you sure you don’t have any other family?”

“There is nothing left for us, we are the last ones alive.” Alisa said, breaking Kuroo’s heart and solidifying his decision. “We will die if we go back to Russia.”

“Jesus, you’ve still got us if you want.” Tetsurou offered holding a hand out only to have it grabbed enthusiastically by Lev.

“Thank you Uncle Testurou and Uncle Kenma! I take care of furballs!” Lev shouted.

“That’s great,” Tetsurou said, “Careful not to be too rough with Kenma though. He’s sick and you could hurt him pretty severely.”

“I’m not made of porcelain.” Kenma said, though both of the children seemed to understand well enough.

Now that he had dealt with the children for the time being, Tetsurou turned his attention back to Keiji and Koutarou, who had been watching the interaction with bemused looks on their faces.

“Welcome back.” Keiji said, hugging them both. “WELCOME BACK BROTHER!!” Koutarou yelled, jumping into the group hug. 

\--

Tetsurou had always known that Koutarou and Keiji never did things half-assed when it came to their son, but he still found that the extravagance of the kid’s seventh birthday party was really something to marvel at. If this is what they did when their kid turned seven, Tetsurou was almost afraid of what they were going to do when Katsumi turned eighteen.

Tetsurou had yet to bump into their gracious hosts, and had already lost Lev and Alisa to the crowd. He could see Alisa already off chatting up a small group of men her age, all clearly enamoured with the vibrant young woman. He couldn’t see Lev anywhere, despite the kid’s ridiculous height, but he was sure he’d either found his way to the food or to other youths who would put up with his antics.

“Let’s go find Keiji and Koutarou,” Tetsurou told Kenma, because he knew how much the other man loathed big social functions, especially when he wasn’t particularly close to any of the other guests.

The couple moved through the crowd for a few minutes before finding Keiji in a smaller room with fewer people, most whom he knew through Koutarou. Alongside Keiji were Daichi and Ushijima, two of Koutarou’s old army mates and their two spouses. The small group that were in the room all appeared to be messing around with a radio emitting an unpleasant static noise. Tetsurou immediately saw how Kenma’s interest was piqued by the radio, fingers twitching in an echo of how they had moved during their time in Room 40. 

“Something wrong with the radio?” Tetsurou asked, grabbing the attention of the people.

“We can’t seem to tune it.” Keiji replied, “Welcome, by the way, are you enjoying yourselves so far?”

“Yeah, it’s great. Lost Lev already, which is definitely a bonus.” Tetsurou said, “Why don’t you let Kenma take a look at the radio? He worked pretty closely with them during the war.”

It’s rare for Tetsurou to bring up what he and Kenma did during the war. All their friends know they were overseas for a good amount of time, but none know exactly what they did. They weren’t really supposed to tell people. Most didn’t press them on it, but Tetsurou could see the quirk in Keiji’s brow at the offhand mention.

“Please do,” Keiji told Kenma, who was immediately on the machine, fingers first twisting the knobs, before deftly taking the backing off and messing around on the inside. It wasn’t more than three minutes before the thing was back up and running, playing some pleasant and gentle music.

“Were you two in communications, then?” Daichi, who had been watching Kenma closely, asked, trying to look casual. 

Tetsurou gave the other man a smirk before replying simply, “Not quite.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Russian Lev speaks essentially translates to "Ow! Why did you hit me?!" 
> 
> The birthday party at the end happens roughly ~8 years after Kuroo and Kenma return from Britain. If you were curious about who Bokuto and Akaashi's kid is, feel free to read the previous work in this series which is entered about how they came to adopt him!
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
